


The time has come; let us be brave.

by hayj



Series: Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy [5]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Implied Threats of Rape/non-con by a Third Party, Non-Consensual Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 17:38:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4885738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayj/pseuds/hayj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Hey, hey, none of that,” he soothed, gently cupping her face, before ducking down to cut the rope at her feet. Patting her down on his way up, checking for injuries, he didn’t miss the way she flinched.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The time has come; let us be brave.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt # 29 It was dark and held the smell of earth and blood.

Tied to the center tent pole,Charlie pulled on the coarse rope that bound her wrists, looking for any weakness. Her brain acknowledged that it was pointless as the blood pooled in her palms; but she had been taught to never give up. There was always a way out.  

 

She tried looking around the tent in the rapidly growing darkness, but couldn’t see much out of her one good eye. The other one was almost swollen shut thanks to the meaty fist that had connected with the side of her face. She could feel blood trickling down from her temple and her lips were swollen and cracked.

 

Letting her head hang down to her chest, she took a few calming breaths.

 

She had been out on a routine patrol when her squad was ambushed by a group of rebels and overpowered. This normally wouldn’t have been the case, but this particular group had access to illegal weapons.

 

Miles was going to be pissed. Not only about the weapons, but about who was in charge. It was no coincidence that he and Bass had left early that morning on a tour of the upper peninsula.

 

Her squad would eventually be declared overdue and scouts sent out to ascertain their position, but there was no one left. The rebels had executed what few men had been left alive after the ambush.

 

She heard a noise from the back to the tent, but turning her head was impossible.

 

“Charlie!” She heard Jeremy whisper, as cold steel pressed against her bonds.

 

“Jeremy?” She softly sobbed. She would have collapsed had she not been held up by the pole.

 

“Hey, hey, none of that,” he soothed, gently cupping her face, before ducking down to cut the rope at her feet. Patting her down on his way up, checking for injuries, he didn’t miss the way she flinched or her torn clothing.

 

“Can you run?” He asked, keeping a tight grip on her shoulders.

 

“Yes, I can run.” She promised him.

 

“Okay, good. We’ve got to move quick,” he said, tugging her along behind him, ”We’re going out through the back door,” he continued, pulling back the edge of the cut tent. “You run straight and true and you don’t stop. You hear me?”

 

Charlie gave him a quick nod of her head.

 

“Go!”

 

She took off toward the treeline and could hear Jeremy’s footsteps behind her. They had made it halfway across the open field before gunshots rang out. She heard a muffled “oof,” from Jeremy and turned to see him staggering.

 

Running back to him, she threw his arm over her shoulder, grabbing him by the waist.

 

“Damn it, Kid!” He cursed at her as they hit the treeline. “Didn’t I tell you not to stop!”

 

“I’m not leaving you!” Charlie growled back as she pushed him up against a tree to inspect his leg, causing Jeremy to suck in a breath at her probing fingers.  “It’s a through and through, but you're losing a lot of blood,” she said stripping off her ripped up uniform jacket, twirling it around a few times before tying it around the wound.

 

“That’s good enough, Charlie. We’ve got to go.”

 

“Where? Because you’re going nowhere fast.”

 

Jeremy gave her his best grin. “I’ve been here a lot longer than these jackasses. Miles, Bass and I have a whole string of safe places through this area,” he explained as they started moving once again.

 

“Safe places?” Charlie asked as they got a rhythm of movement going.

 

“Hope you’re not afraid of the dark anymore, Shortstack.”

* * *

 

It felt like hours before Jeremy pointed to an indention in the ground.

 

Propping him up, Charlie got on her hands and knees feeling for the handle that he told her was there. Pulling with all her might, she opened the circular door, wincing at the rusty groan it gave.

 

She helped him to the entrance and got his legs into the hole, but with only being able to put weight on one leg it wasn’t going to be pretty. She closed the hatch behind them and met him at the bottom of the steps where he was awkwardly sprawled.

 

“I’m getting too damn old for this shit,” he breathed heavily.

 

“What is this place?” She asked in a hushed tone. It was dark and held the smell of damp earth and now, blood.

 

“It’s an old storm shelter.” He answered as she scrambled around to pull the shirt off from around his thigh with shallow breaths. She couldn’t lose Jeremy,too.

 

Yanking off her torn t-shirt which left her in a dirty, ragged bra, she wrapped it around his thigh. “Can you turn around and prop your leg up on the stairs?”  

 

Jeremy blindly reached in the direction of her voice, getting a handful of bare Charlie. “Jesus Christ, Charlie. If the rebels don’t kill me Miles and Bass will.” He grumbled taking off his jacket and shoving it at her. She slipped her arms through the arm holes but didn't bother to button it as she scooted up behind him, letting him lean back against her, their combined body heat helping them to stay warm.

 

“Please don’t die, Jeremy.” She whispered against his cheek as she carded her fingers through his hair.

 

Jeremy grasped the hand wrapped around his chest, threading their fingers together. “Not happening, Shortstack. Can’t get rid of me that easily.”  

 

Charlie smoothed her hand down over his cheek till her thumb rested at the corner of his mouth, leaning in to press her lips softly against his. “Thank you for always being there when I need you.” She said softly, leaning her head against his as she cradled him in her arms.

 

“You keep doing that, and I’m going to fall in love.” He hummed tiredly.

 

Charlie chuckled low in his ear. “A Matheson linked to someone whose last name isn’t Monroe? Inconceivable.” She said, causing them both to snort. “Besides, Cynthia would have my hide.”

 

“Cynthia loves you like a daughter. Me, on the other hand, not so much.” He said with a shiver.

 

“Shh,” Charlie comforted him, wriggling her way out the jacket, tossing it over him like a blanket.

 

“You’re gonna freeze.” He chattered as he burrowed his face into her neck.

 

“Are you kidding me?” Charlie scoffed. “You’re a freaking furnace.” She replied matter of factly, wrapping her arms around his chest.

 

She rocked and hummed, praying that she’d know when daylight came as he fell asleep in her arms.

* * *

 

The sound of near-by gunfire roused Charlie from a fitful sleep. Jeremy had never woke and was so cold, she was afraid to check his pulse. The scent of blood and earth were overwhelming.

 

Clutching him tighter, even though her fingers felt like they might snap off like icicles, there was nothing she’d be able to do if it were the rebels. Jeremy had used all his ammunition during their escape.

 

When the hatch was pulled open, light flooded their concrete cell causing her to blink painfully.

 

She whimpered in relief when she heard him call her name.

 

“Charlie!” Bass called frantically, nearly tumbling down the stairs to get to her.

 

“Bass.” She croaked. Funny, she hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until just now.

 

“Water!” Bass bellowed, catching the canteen that was thrown down. Unscrewing the cap, he helped her drink.

 

“Jeremy’s been shot. Help him.” She begged Bass once she was able to talk again.

 

Bass’ eyes moved frantically between the two of them. “I need a stretcher rigged up and as many blankets as you can find!” He yelled up the stairs as he held his fingers up to Jeremy’s throat.

 

“What happened, Charlie?” Bass asked her as he stripped off his uniform jacket draping it over her shoulders.

 

“Where are those fucking blankets?” he yelled over his shoulder.

 

“The rebels. They ambushed my squad. Executed the ones that survived the skirmish.”

 

“Why? What did they want?” He asked, gently stroking her uninjured cheek.

 

She raised her good eye to look at him. “They wanted you and Miles to suffer.”

 

Bass sucked in a breath as four men appeared beside them, taking the blankets they offered as they maneuvered Jeremy away from Charlie and up the stairs.  

 

Once Jeremy was off of her, Bass was able to see the full extent of the damage. Bloody nail marks raked down her chest which was littered with finger shaped bruises, her bra hanging on by a shoulder and a prayer. Her belt was missing and the button gone from her trousers.  

 

Not saying a word about her state of dress, he helped her lift her arms into the sleeves of his jacket and then wrapped her in a blanket before scooping her into his arms.

 

Outside, he transferred her to the elder Neville, who handed her back to him once he was mounted. Bass did his best to comfort her as she buried her face in his neck and clung to him in silence.

 

Riders were sent ahead to let the Hall know of their return and the need for any and all doctors to report for duty and baths and beds readied. Another was sent after Miles. It was sheer dumb luck that Bass had returned when he had, his favorite horse having thrown a shoe. Not wanting a replacement it was decided that he would return to Philly to have the horse re-shod and would catch up with Miles on his first stop.

 

Reaching the Hall, Bass watched as men hustled Jeremy up the sidewalk and into the wing that housed the family quarters. Cynthia was in the doorway waiting, a hand over her mouth as she watched him being carried in.

* * *

 

Angela was waiting outside their rooms for them, William standing beside his mother. “What happened to Charlie and Uncle Jeremy? Are they going to be ok?” He asked his mother watching his Uncle Bass carry his sister to her room.

 

“Run along and get Doctor Wells. Tell her she’s needed in the President’s quarters and then go check on your brother for me.” Angela instructed the five-year old.

 

“Yes Mama,” the boy answered, scurrying away to find the doctor.

 

Angela closed the door behind her, following the couple into their room, holding a small basin of warm water for Bass as he gently cleaned Charlie’s face and the abrasions on her chest. When the doctor arrived, she excused herself, giving them their privacy.

 

Charlie kept a tight grip on Bass’ hand as the Doctor examined her, explaining that If Jeremy hadn’t arrived when he did...

 

Bass closed his eyes and counted backward from one hundred in his head, only stopping when the doctor set various salves on the night table instructing them on their use.

 

Helping Charlie into the bath after the doctor left, he excused himself before walking back into the sitting room and attacking a chair.

 

“Feel better?” she asked when he returned.

 

Bass smiled ruefully. He had never been able to get anything past this woman, which was what attracted him to her in the first place. “Not really,” he admitted holding out a towel for her as he helped her out of the tub.

 

As she stood in front of him, their hands locked together on the towel, she looked up at him. “It was Nora.”

 

Bass closed his eyes as he tilted his head back, blowing out a long breath. Inhaling calmly, he pressed his lips against her forehead, cradling her in his arms.

* * *

 

It was two days before Miles came tearing through the front gates of the Hall, marching upstairs to see his daughter. The swelling had begun to go down in her face, but the bruises had darkened making it look worse.

 

Angela had given him the short version on their way up the stairs where he stopped briefly to see his boys before barging into Bass rooms. His friend and son-in-law sat in a chair beside the bed, watching Charlie as she slept. Bass waved him out and closed the bedroom door so they could talk.

 

“It was Nora.” Bass spit out as he explained in detail what had happened to Charlie. “She executed my men and had my wife beaten and violated!” He thundered.

 

Miles dragged Bass to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “We’ll find her and when we do, we’ll make her pay.” He promised quietly.

 

Bass nodded, clapping Miles on the back as he stepped away, returning to his wife's side.

* * *

 

Charlie woke to the sound of a crowd outside. When she turned to the window it was to discover Jeremy sitting by her bed in Bass’ place.

 

“I thought you were dead.” She said, dragging her aching body to a sitting position.  
  


“Me?” He asked, shuffling over to the bed to sit beside her. “Who's going to bail your sorry ass out of trouble if I up and die? Nobody! That’s who, Shortstack.”

 

Charlie fell into his arms. “I love you, Jeremy.”

 

“Love you too, Princess.” Jeremy chuckled patting her back before turning serious. “Are you okay? Really? They won't tell me anything but I have eyes. I know what I saw.”

 

“I’m fine. Really.” Charlie said squeezing his hands, her voice tinged with sadness.

 

Jeremy nodded. “There’s something going on out front that you’re probably going to want to see.”

 

They hobbled their way to the balcony at the front of the building, stepping out into the bright sunlight to find a crowd had gathered outside the gates of the hall as they did anytime the platform for public executions was erected.

 

Jeremy whistled and they watched as Bass and Miles turn towards them. When Bass met her eyes, he looked determined as he strode over to a man on his knees, hands bound behind his back as he faced the balcony not the crowd.

 

Bass pulled the bag off the man’s head causing Charlie lightly gasp, stepping backwards into Jeremy.

 

“Is that him, Charlie?” Jeremy asked softly.

 

“Yes, that’s him.” She answered, her breath escaping in ragged huffs..

 

Jeremy nodded at Bass who drew his sidearm and shot the man in the head.

 

“Oh!” Charlie squeaked a hand flying to her mouth as she met her husband's fierce gaze.

 

Next, her father pulled the bag off the person beside the dead man's crumpled body to revel Nora.

 

Charlie couldn't help but be saddened by the loss of her mentor.

 

“Oh, Jeremy.” She breathed turning into his embrace as her father held a gun to the woman's head, the reverberation reaching them seconds later.

  
“It’s over, Shortstack.” Jeremy soothed. “It’s all over.”


End file.
